


all eyes on me

by parisoriginal



Category: Glee
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-02
Updated: 2012-09-02
Packaged: 2017-11-16 02:42:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/534588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/parisoriginal/pseuds/parisoriginal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rachel is late to her first dance class at NYADA. Cassandra July asks she stays after class. Julyberry pwp in a dance room. You're welcome.</p>
            </blockquote>





	all eyes on me

**Author's Note:**

> an (1): Man, do I have a thing for dance room smut fics. I tried my best not to make it sound like Wednesdays, and I hope it doesn't! I think I may be one of the first to already dive into fic-ing this ship, so excuse my version of Cassandra July. It is much milder than that we have seen in the previews. I mean, there's a serious lack of knowledge on this character and there's no plot, really, just sex, so welp!
> 
> an (2): For Sherley (aka tumblr user july-berry) because, well...
> 
> an (3): FIRST TIME WRITING SOMETHING NOT FABERRY, please be kind!
> 
> Enjoy!

You enter the room in a rush. Your heart is pounding so hard, you're sure you're going to have a heart attack.

Six minutes late. On your first day. You can't believe it. Your alarm clock didn't go off and you had all of five minutes to get ready and dash to your dance class, almost tripping and dying on your way trying not to be late. So much for that.

The second the doors open, everyone's head swings toward you, and you can't possibly feel smaller than you already are. Suddenly, your mind takes you to an empty stage with a superbly lit spot on you. Everyone is watching, awaiting your next move, but you've forgotten the words; an already too familiar feeling of nausea returning to your stomach. Damn your imagination to hell.

You try your best to look both unaffected and apologetic as you hurry to a corner and sit with the rest of the students.

"Name." A tall woman, whose got legs for miles, clad in fishnet stockings and small dance heels and couldn't possibly look sexier in a leotard and vest.  _What a fox_. You must have taken too long to answer because as your eyes rake over her arousing physique to finally land on her face, her eyebrow is raised up high and she's smiling as if saying, "yeah, I know."

Your face flushes a deep red, "P-pardon me?" You sound like an idiot.

"I asked for your name, sweetheart." Her tone is dripping with condescension, and somehow it only drives you to want her approval even more.

You sit up straight. "My name is Rachel Berry."

"Rachel Berry?" She chuckles. "Sounds like a porn star name. I like it. Unfortunately, you are six minutes late, so not even that little tidbit can help you there."

Your chocolate eyes widen at the professor's remark. What do you even say to that?

"Stand up." She demands. You do so. "Okay, class, first, stretch exercises. We need all your young and abled bodies warm and loose. Shake off all your nerves and get excited because we found ourselves our volunteer for the first routine we're learning today."

The woman pats your shoulder and moves along in front of the mirror, leaving you to stand erect in the middle of the room. You walk to the bars next to a tall, handsome boy who seems to have a look on his face like he's seeing an injured puppy on the sidewalk. "Don't worry. She's like that with everyone."

" _Everyone_?" You whisper, distraught by the whole debacle.

"Yeah, she'll warm up to you sooner or later. If you're lucky, that is."

You turn your face forward and stretch toward your leg on the bar. You catch a glimpse of the woman by the mirror. She looks like an absolute ice queen. You stretch back, "What's her name?"

"Cassandra. Cassandra July."

.

His name is Roger. He's got two older brothers and a kid sister. He is from Brooklyn and a dance major. He's incredible and you feel so lucky that he's been picked to be your partner during this routine. You are used to tap and ballet, but jazz is proving to be a lot more difficult than you thought it would. And Cassandra was not letting a single thing slip without her speaking up about it. It is driving you up a wall.

"No, Roger. You're going about it all wrong." She shoos him away from you, leaving the post where his hands were cold until Cassandra's replace them, grabbing you possessively. "You need to want her and not want to let her get away. See how my hands curve here, and there's barely any space between us?"

You're sure you are going to faint. Well, at the very least, you're sure Cassandra can feel your erratic breathing, which you are trying desperately to hide but failing miserably, especially as she keeps pulling you closer.  _Concentrate, Rachel, it's fine. It's just a dance class and she's your professor, for Barbra's sake!_  Your eyes shut momentarily as your instructor keeps her grip tight and explains to Roger how to properly hold you during this routine.

You open your eyes to find that Cassandra has been speaking and looking directly at you. Suddenly, your mouth runs completely dry and, before you know it, it's open ready to explain, but nothing is coming out.  _Fuck_.

Cassandra's light eyes flicker—asking if you're okay? No. The corner of her mouth quirks up into a smirk, and very quickly, without anyone else noticing, there's a wink. _Jesus Murphy_. You are most definitely going to faint.

.

The class is  _finally_  announced finished and you automatically breathe a sigh of relief. You didn't know how much longer you could have lasted had the class not been over right then and there. The added stress of being tardy, being singled out, and on top of that, being  _that_  close to her teacher was just plain overwhelming. The room was almost beginning to spin.

Firstly, it's your teacher. The fact that you are undoubtedly aroused by the proximity of an instructor is not only unprofessional, it's unethical, and just un- _everything_ ; and not to mention a very familiar path you might have taken a stroll down your Sophomore year with Mr. Schue. And look at how well  _that_  turned out.

"You." Cassandra says pointedly at you. You are snapped out of your thoughts and stop dead in your tracks as all the other students walk past you; all of them eyeing you as if you're in big trouble. You gulp audibly.

"Y-yes?" You mentally kick yourself. You can't even keep it together, can you?

"Berry, right?" You watch Cassandra as she looks through her roster, making sure she's correct, even though you're nodding in affirmation. Her slender fingers stroke the sheet of paper, going down names, and she's licking her lips. You suddenly feel your eyes burning hot.

The last of the students make their way out of the dance room with a loud echo of the double doors closing. Cassandra walks over to them—dear, god, her ass—and clicks the lock. Panic seeps in for a split second before she casually turns back to you, chin high, her attitude so cool.

"You flexibility needs help. Your pique turns are—" She winces. You do, too. "I need you to stay for a few. Do you mind or are you simply okay with being mediocre?"

You're absolutely thrown back momentarily. "How da—" You clear your throat briefly when you realize you might get yourself kicked out of the school for almost lunging over and throwing punches at your professor. Or maybe throwing  _yourself_   _on_  her. "Anything you're willing to teach me, I will learn, Miss July."

She looks you up and down with a small lip bite and again you're reminded of just how wet you really are.

"Lean up against that wall." Cassandra points at the wall adjacent to the mirror. You hesitantly motion toward the spot. You place your things onto the floor a couple of feet away. The wall feels cool on your shoulder blades. You sigh.

"Now, lift your left leg," you watch Cassandra pat her shoulder, "and place your ankle right here."

You nearly choke, "I'm sorry?"

"You're deaf now?" She flashes you a smirk, "I said place your ankle on my shoulder."

You shut your eyes, willing yourself to do as you're told. You lift your leg and let your ankle slide onto Cassandra's shoulder. She begins to move closer to you and you can feel your hamstring stretch. You've never done this exercise before.

"See how much this helps?" Your stomach drops almost as low as Cassandra's tone. Her slender hands run down your thigh, causing goosebumps to erupt all over your skin. You suddenly find yourself breathing heavily with pupils blown. God, you're so turned on right now.

"Turn out," she says. You don't know if you're imagining it or if she did say it as huskily as it sounded. You glance down to your right foot, watching hers tap at your toe. "Good girl."

 _Oh, God_. You can feel yourself soak as you hear Cassandra say those two words so utterly sexy and hoarse.  _This is your teacher, Rachel. Your professor._  You keep repeating that over and over, but the more you say it, the more you ignore it. Your heart is beating uncontrollably and you're so sure Cassandra's noticed.

"Now, I'm going to bring myself closer to you, so this might hurt a little."

You bite your lower lip and brace yourself. Cassandra moves closer, your bodies just mere inches away and your leg is nearly against your body. She hears you hiss and that damn smirk returns to her gorgeous face. "Are you okay, Rachel?"

"I'm fine." You can barely say that without moaning. The proximity is absolutely killing you.

"You look—" Cassandra brushes the back of her hand over your red cheek, "you look a little flushed." Her hand travels further south and rests on your erratic chest. No need to hide that any longer. "And your heart… you know we can stop this at any time, right?"

She looks at you and you're not an idiot. You can read between the lines. She means this—what's about to happen. "Move closer," _Jesus, Rachel Barbra Berry._  This is so wrong on so many levels, but if Cassandra doesn't touch you within the next few seconds, you're sure to place your own hand between your legs, not giving a fuck whether or not Cassandra is right in front of you or not.

She steps closer, her eyes dark and that smirk telling you that she's got the same thing on her mind. Your knee begins to buckle, your arousal beginning to make your a little lightheaded.

"Lock your knees, Rachel." She whispers.

"Miss July, please—" You shut your eyes. You don't know what you're begging for, but you need it now.

"Shh…" When did her lips get to your ear? "Call me Cassandra."

Suddenly, your leg drops to the floor and you almost stumble forward, but then there's a hand gripping your hip and another snaking around your neck, and— _fuck_ , there it is. The lips you've been craving since you laid eyes on those fishnet stockings are now on yours; full and delicious. The kiss is hungry, starving, and unmerciful. You part just enough to moan deeply and Cassandra takes the opportunity to slip her tongue right in. It slides against yours and you're not sure if you've ever felt anything so soft, yet as aggressive as this kiss.

"Ouch," you speak abruptly breaking the embrace. She'd bit your lip hard and you just weren't expecting it. There's a brief silence between you and her, almost as if allowing you another chance to say no.

You look down for a few seconds and chuckle half heartedly, "I really hope I won't regret this."

Cassandra catches your eyes and licks her lips, "I'll make it worth your while. Turn around. Face the mirror."

A shock shoots through your veins and goes right to your center. You do as she says. She walks behind you, leisurely. "Second position, flat back."

You take two steps back and part your legs to second position. Your eyes never leave hers as she watches your every move. Next, your lean forward, back straight, and rest your chin on the bottom bar while you grip it with both hands. She stops right behind your ass. Hands begin to trace your side and land on your hips. Taking a step closer to you, she leans over to your ear and bites your earlobe, "I want you to watch me. The entire time. Got it?"

You gulp and whimper in affirmation. "Good girl."  _Fuck, again._  She steps back to her previous position, letting her hands explore your body. You try your best not to let your legs shake as she nears your ass. She squeezes and your eyes flutter, biting the inside of your cheeks as to not moan so loud. "I never told you to keep quiet, Rachel."

Your lungs expand and release a deep breath. Her hands dipping down to your thighs, raking her nails so deep, you're sure she's ripped your tights. Fuck it, who cares? She's touching your inner thighs and the thumping between your legs continues. She's so close to you, you want to scream.

"Fuck," you whimper, biting your lip, the moment her hand reaches your center.

"Wow, Rachel," instantly you feel embarrassed. "You're absolutely soaked."

Your cheeks flush even more. Your whole body is on fire. "How badly  _do_  you want this?"

"Oh, God…"  _Keep it together, Rachel_. "Miss July, you have no idea."

A loud tear echoes in your ears and you realize she's actually ripped open your tights. Your moan rings through out as you feel a finger dip between your folds. "I said, call me Cassandra."

"Y-yes, Cassandra," you elicit a sharp moan when she begins to add pressure to your clit in small tight circles. The sensation ripples through you.

"Good girl." She says huskily. Your eyes almost roll back, her fingers move faster. You want more. You want her fingers in you. You want her to fuck you hard and fast.

"Oh,  _God_."

"What, Rachel? What do you want?" Her eyes are piercing right through you. This is the most erotic thing you've ever done. you're bent over in front of your professor, her hand between your thighs, circling your clit and teasing your opening, her other hand pressing firmly on your back.

"I need you inside me, Cassandra."

Her index finger strokes your opening and you rock your ass back against her. She chuckles darkly, "how bad?"

"So fucking bad, please."

"Oh, I love it when you say please."

You cry out when she slips one digit.  _What a fucking tease_. "More,  _please_."

Two fingers now, pumping in and out painfully slow. You're getting closer to the edge, every sense is heightened. Cassandra's hand picks up speed. You continue to watch her smirk. You feel her other hand, nails raking your skin, travel from your back over the front of your body, over your stomach, and her slender fingers finding their way to your clit. They begin to rub tight circles while her other hand pumps harder.

"Faster, God, faster," you whimper. So close. You're so very close. She bites her lip and you moan deeply. Harder and faster, her hand pumps roughly against you.

"I want you to come for me, Rachel. Say my name."

And that's it—one more stroke of her fingers on your clit and your thigh muscles tighten and begin to burn. Your back arches, arms climbing up to the top bar to keep you steady as your entire body stiffens. "Fuck, Cassandra!" The orgasm pounds through you and your toes curl. Your eyes are barely open. Cassandra continues to thrust into you, feeling ever centimeter of your insides squeeze her fingers mercilessly.

Finally, your vision returns. She exits you, pulling you up with her left hand. She stands flush against you. Your chest is rising and falling rapidly. Cassandra brings her fingers into her mouth. Tasting every bit of you and moaning as they leave her lips. You're so going to faint.

"Mmm, delicious," she whispers onto your lips and you lean forward, taking in your own juices and loving it. Your tongues dance in an intense kiss. Her hands grip you tightly.

You finally part and she licks her lips. "How do you feel about a little after class tutoring from time to time?"

You bite your lip. "Well, I don't know if I'll need it. See, I've got this  _really_  talented dance teacher." You say teasingly.

Her blue eyes twinkle a bit, and you see stars in them.


End file.
